


i try to listen (but her whispers make my ears hurt)

by knightofcauldrons



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Internal Monologue, Introspection, Kinda, Mollymauk Tealeaf Has Feelings, No Dialogue, POV First Person, POV Second Person, Resurrection, THE WIDOMAUK IS LITERALLY SOOOOOOO SUBTLE GUYS AKDJSLKGJ, also, also me: writes this fic, idk man this ones like ~Weird and Artsy~, me: i dont like writing in first person, post ep 111
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26675818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightofcauldrons/pseuds/knightofcauldrons
Summary: Molly remembers them. It's a little hard, at first, but he remembers them.Not that it's enough, but."I hope I didn’t abandon them. But what else would you call dying?"
Relationships: EXTREMELY SUBTLE THO ITS LITERALLY SOOOOOO SUBTEXTUAL, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Mollymauk Tealeaf
Comments: 18
Kudos: 94





	i try to listen (but her whispers make my ears hurt)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "sex with a ghost" by teddy hyde

_Don’t you recognize these people?_

_Maybe you should. You think you should. You think you’re sad._

_Your body moves but you definitely didn’t tell it to do that. Where are you going? What do you seek?_

_You look at the first one. Who is that? He’s handsome, you think to yourself, and you think to yourself that he’s cleaned up quite a bit but you don’t quite have the memory to tell if that’s actually true._

_You can see his breath in the cold air. His hair, it makes you think of fire. It looks soft. You could braid it, you think. You’ve braided hair quite a lot, before, but you don’t know when before was._

_Your hair is long enough to be braided, too. It touches your back now, it shouldn’t have grown that fast. It’s a bit of a mullet, and you could rock a mullet, you think. But that’s not important right now._

_Look back at the man, you stupid darling thing, look back at the man made of fire and amber and love._

_Who is he, darling thing?_

I know him! I know him and he has a name! Caleb! Of course it’s Caleb. Widogast. Something like that. Something like that! He’s handsome, he always was, but he’s handsome. I don’t think he liked me very much. But. Maybe he did. I hope he did. I liked him. I wanted to dance with him, once, but I was too busy being drunk and Jester ended up dancing with him.

Good for her. Maybe I’ll dance with him one day.

_You might’ve loved him._

I might’ve loved him. But I can’t even remember that, not really. But his name is Caleb. I think it’s Caleb. He said it was Caleb and I try to make a habit of calling people the name they’ve given me. 

He had a cat. Where is that cat? I think it’s a magic cat. And he cares about books. I care about books but not because I read them, I care about books because he cares about books and I care about him. Or something like that. 

I wish he would have talked to me more. I figured we’d talk, with time. But there was never enough time, I should’ve expected that. 

_You should’ve expected that._

_There’s never enough time for anything_

_There’s a woman standing next to that man, the one who has the magic cat._

Yes, her. Why does she look like that? Her eyes usually look so fierce. They don’t right now.

_She’s reaching for her staff, now why is that? When her eyes look so scared but her stance seems so angry. People think she’s full of anger and blood but it’s a farce, you know, a cover up._

I know. I know.

_She’s full of guilt, maybe, or she’s full of melancholy. She’s not full of anger though, she maybe never was. It’s a lie that everyone’s fallen for, including herself. She’s never really angry. Just hurt and confused and maybe a little scared and she expresses that with her fists. You think you recognize her. You never realized until now that it was never anger._

_You feel sad for not noticing that before._

Her. It’s. Beauregard. Beau. It’s fuckin’ Beauregard.

She never told me her last name. I never asked. I don’t think she liked me. I don’t think she liked me.

Maybe she would’ve.

_If you had more time._

If I had more time. 

More time. That’s the pattern here, isn’t it? It’s not a good pattern. I don’t like it.

_You like patterns. Tacky polka dots on a dress, embroidery on a tapestry, running your fingers through your barbarian’s friend’s hair every evening before you sleep for the night._

_You hate patterns. The repetition of scars on your throat and chest that you never remembered getting, the terrible visions you get each night in your dreams, gingham. You fucking hate gingham and you don’t know why._

I like Beauregard, though. She was fiery. Fierce. She didn’t know what she wanted but goddamn did she pretend that she did. 

I talked to her one night. Told her story. I think she thought it was bullshit. I think she thought a lot of what I said was bullshit.

_That’s fair, you think to yourself. A lot of it was bullshit._

Bullshit that came from a genuine place, though.

_The best lies always hold a little bit of truth._

It’s not a lie to say that I cared about her. It’s not a lie to say she’s an asshole. 

_She turns her head to look back at someone. There’s a tattoo. That’s new._

That’s mine.

_It’s yours. Your tattoo._

Sentimental bastard. 

_You’d laugh if you could but your face doesn’t seem to move. You think maybe your face is just cold and numb but-_

_Beauregard looks at a blue woman._

_She’s-_

Jester, how could I forget? 

Jester. Jes. Jessie. Jester Lavorre. That was her last name? Lavorre. La-vorre. It sounds nice. Rolls off the tongue. Jes-ter La-vorre. 

_The one that danced with Caleb._

The one that danced with Caleb. We pranked some bigots, that night, two men that had called us devils. Jester tripped one of them with her tail, I think, and I gave one of them the Curse of the Eyeless.

_It was a fun time, you remember. You remember being happy. She seemed to like you. She seemed to like everyone, but she seemed to like you._

I remember she liked pastries. She always smelled like cinnamon and vanilla and would it be too predictable to say she smelled like blueberries?

_You’re not even sure if blueberries have a smell._

I remember seeing her vandalize holy statues with drawings of dick. I wish I could’ve joined her in that, it would’ve been so much fun.

_There was just never enough-_

There was just never enough fucking time. I get it. There was just never enough fucking time.

_You remember she was pretty and young and sweet and tricky and kind._

Always a good combination. Trick people with a kind smile on your face. Slipping an extra gold into someone’s pocket can be a prank too.

_You would’ve been quite the pair. The nicest sort of assholes._

She looks like she’s going to cry. I don’t want her to cry. I’ve never seen her cry before.

_You weren’t there to see her cry. She’s cried too much. She cried over you, you know._

It doesn’t seem right that people cried over me.

_They had only known you for a few months. Did you really make such an impression, Mollymauk?_

_The green one, that’s-_

Fjord. I think he’s saying something. Why does he sound like that? 

_Things have changed, you think. It’s been, a year? A month? Do you know?_

_It’s been too long._

I hope I didn’t abandon them. But what else would you call dying? 

Fjord looks. Bigger? Better? The confidence seems less insincere. That’s good. Good for him. There’s something different about him. He stands behind the others. Wasn’t he the “leader” of our group? Seems more like a tag-team now. That’s good. 

He glances at Jester, he glances at the others. Like he waits to see what they’ll do before he makes a move. It’s almost like he’s allowing himself to be a follower, for once. Like he’s letting himself rely on them a little.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s good. He wasn’t like that before. He was pushed into a leader role, I think. I could never tell if he actually liked being the leader. But it never quite seemed genuine.

_Fjord._

No last name. Don’t think he has one. He could be lying. But that’s not my business. 

_Fjord, wasn’t he a sailor? You can’t really remember. You don’t think it came up. His sword looks different, you wonder what that’s about._

_Who’s the little one in the dress?_

Holy shit, no way.

That one’s Nott. Nott? Nott. Could be Nott. Doesn’t look like her, but the voice, it sounds the same. Something’s different about her. Well, something’s different about her besides the obvious.

Same crossbow, though. Same restless, fidgety hands. There’s a look of surprised familiarity in her eyes. It’s her. She’s a halfling.

She’s a halfling?

Well. I guess we all have secrets.

_Yourself more so than the others, you think._

_How many secrets can you keep, darling thing?_

Did Nott like me? I don’t think she did. She didn’t seem to trust me. That’s fair. I don’t present myself as a very trustworthy person.

_You think you told her to only steal from grumpy people. Or something like that. You wonder if she took that advice. No way for you to know._

_You glance up. Pink, towering, furry. Smells faintly like tea leaves._

That one’s new. Don’t think I know him. Don’t think so. He looks kind. I think he looks kind, and nice, they must’ve met him after what happened to me.

Out of everyone who could’ve replaced them I’m glad it’s him. He seems like he took good care of them. Seems like the type of person who could help with grief.

They grieved for me, didn’t they?

Did they?

_Don’t look, Mollymauk. Don’t look at her, standing at the back of the group._

_You look anyways._

_It’s her. Of course it’s her._

Yasha. Yasha. Yash-a Ny-door-rin. 

_You love her._

I love her. Of course I do. It’s Yasha. It’s her. 

Sister, friend, family.

_“This is Yasha, she’s the charm.”_

_She must’ve missed you. She must’ve._

_She looks like she’s going to cry. You really really don’t want her to. It’s Yasha. Your guardian angel. Something like that._

I missed her. Gods, I missed her so much. I missed braiding her hair I missed her warm tight hugs I miss her awkward kindness and her soft voice god fucking dammit I remember _(I remember)_ feeling like I’d have enough time with her why didn’t I have more goddamn fucking time-

_You want to hug her. You want to wrap your arms around her thick torso and hold on tight, you want to assure her that it’s you and that you’re never leaving again and that everything is okay._

_I’m sorry Mollymauk. This isn’t your body._

But it is! But it fucking _is_ my body so why can’t I fucking _feel anything goddammit-_

_He unsheathes your scimitar._

No! No, god fucking dammit! I put the sword back, I put the fucking stupid carnival glass sword back, I throw it into the fucking snow-

_I’m sorry Mollymauk. Darling stupid thing. This is not your body._

_Your body steps forward. He forces your lips to smile. It doesn’t look right. It looks a bit like a sneer._

No no NO NO NO I CAN’T DO THIS GODDAMMIT 

_He swings your scimitar in your hand._

STOP GOD FUCKING DAMMIT WHY CAN’T I FEEL ANYTHING-

_And then he lunges._

_Mollymauk, are you still there?_

**Author's Note:**

> yes i wrote this in two days, no i havent actually seen 111 yet, yes im so excited and scared about mollymauk, no i literallyyyyy didn't reread or edit this at all before posting it akdlsdkjg 
> 
> n e wayssss here a shitty little thing i wrote while my Molly Stan Brain Went Brrrrrrr. tbh its still going brrrrrrrrr but hey yknow lakdjslkjglkgh might edit this later lol but rn i just wanna Post It TM
> 
>   
> tumblr @knight-of-cauldrons 
> 
> comments is sustenance Please Feed Me lol. no pressure tho!! comments are just appreciated <3


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